


fallen to the wind

by Solanaceae



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, Tolkien Femslash Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7551130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solanaceae/pseuds/Solanaceae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nellas confronts Nienor's mortality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fallen to the wind

**Author's Note:**

> Tolkien Femslash Week Bingo: Language of Flowers: G36 - Cherry Blossom: Transience of Life, O44: Red Rose - true love, NSFW: G36: comfort sex, Story Elements: G36: autumn light, Cliche: O44: Forehead touching, 4 Words: N27: early, skyline, almost, mask, O44: proposal, drifting, lock, mortal

The sun rose late in early autumn, gracing the skyline with gold and spreading rose fingers over the land. The lands south of Brethil grew cold late; there was still a good deal of warmth lingering in the air even so early in the morning.

Niënor woke to find Nellas watching her. The light coming through the window cast a long stream of illumination across her wife’s face, casting deep shadows around her nose and the points of her ears.

She almost closed her eyes again, drifting on the knife-edge between sleep and waking, when she realized that her wife was crying.

“Nellas?” She sat upright, shaking sleep from her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

Nellas turned away, hastily wiping at her face with the sleeve of her robe, clearly trying to mask her tears. “Nay, Niënor, it is naught. Go on sleeping.”

“No - Nellas--” Niënor swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting and spreading her arms wide. “Come over here.”

For a moment she thought Nellas would push her farther away, refusing her proposal of comfort - but then her wife slumped, moving forward into her arms. She curled up against Niënor’s chest, burying her face in the soft cloth of Niënor’s shirt, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed sobs.

Niënor held her like that for some time, their bodies locked together, Nellas on her knees beside the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Niënor finally whispered.

“I was watching you sleep,” Nellas mumbled into Niënor’s chest. “And you were so still, and I suddenly remembered that I am - that you are mortal, and I am not.”

Niënor stilled.

Nellas looked up at her, tear tracks staining her dark skin. “I apologize. I should not have said anything.”

“No.” Niënor pressed a kiss to Nellas’ forehead. “Thank you for telling me.” She buried her nose in Nellas’ hair, inhaling the scent of sunlit leaves and forest soil. “I love you more than anything, Nellas.”

“And I feel the same in return, which is why your mortality is such a source of sorrow for me,” Nellas replied. “But I ought not burden you with my--”

“With your emotions? Nellas, you are my wife. Your joy is mine, as is your sorrow.” She tightened her arms around Nellas. “I have decades yet to live in happiness with you.”

Nellas’ shoulders tightened as she averted her gaze. “It is not enough.”

_ I know. It will never be enough. _

She pressed her forehead to Nellas’, “Is something only beautiful because it lasts forever? Is the rose any less precious because we know it will wither come autumn?”

There was a deep sorrow in Nellas’ dark eyes as she met Niënor’s gaze. “Nay, but I would have this beauty be that of jewels, which I may treasure unto eternity.”

Niënor kissed her, long and deep, trying to impart the feeling swelling in her heart, threatening to burst through her ribs -  _ I do not wish to leave you, not now and not ever. _ When she pulled away, she forced a wavering smile, tears of her own threatening to spill over. “But you are a being of the forest, not of the mountains. You were always destined for fleeting things.”

Nellas sobbed quietly, fresh tears flowing down her cheeks. Niënor kissed her there, tasting salt like the ocean.

They fell backwards together onto the bed, exploring each other’s bodies with hungry hands. Nellas made love to Niënor with a new desperation, as though searching for a permanence that she would never find.


End file.
